The Intermingling of Various Threads
by Cassiopeiia
Summary: A series of drabbles involving mainly members of the Uchiha clan interacting in various random ways.
1. The Three Prodigies

Non-Uchiha Massacre. Minato, Neji and Itachi all survive and live. AU. Slight Crack.

...

It was a dark and stormy night—as the old adage went, Minato thought to himself sarcastically. Indeed, the rain had not let up the entire day, and the storm showed no signs of calming down even as night fell. The winds were reaching typhoon-level ferocity, and Minato could feel the gale buffeting him slightly off course as he flitted through the rain-soaked streets. In a narrow alley, he ducked into a small bar.

The inside was lit with hazy lamps and a burly bartender was serving the small group of patrons gathered around the bar. Minato gratefully shook off the rain from his clothes and hair and approached. The bartender glanced up and nodded his way. Minato was pleased, as always, for the bartender's casual discretion despite the fact that the Hokage himself was stopping by for a drink at the rundown establishment.

"One cutty sark, neat," Minato requested, taking a seat. He shook off the last of the rain from his haori, noting with some annoyance how faint mud stains peppered the garment.

He carelessly glanced to his left and with mild surprise, found himself seated next to Hyuuga Neji, who was in the midst of drinking a tall glass of beer.

"Neji-kun." Minato decided to take the initiative and open up conversation with the young Hyuuga. After all, he hadn't had many chances to carry a conversation with him, and as leader of the village, Minato felt it was his personal responsibility to get to know his fellow shinobi. "How's it going?"

Neji turned, a little startled. "Hokage-sama." He bowed slightly. "I didn't expect you to come here of all places."

Minato smiled slightly. "The paperwork at the office is piling up, but I needed a break from all that writing. Naruto is gone on a mission and Kushina is…Well. It's that time of month for her, so I think I'll be avoiding the house for now." He chuckled lightly.

"Ah." Neji nodded. "How is Naruto doing? I haven't seen him lately." Bringing up the subject of the blonde shinobi made him look even more morose, Minato thought to himself.

"He left on a mission a couple weeks ago, I believe. Kakashi took him and Yamato out to the Hidden Sand Village again." Minato regarded the young jonin carefully. "Neji is something the matter?"

Neji looked away and was quiet for a moment. "I haven't been on a mission in three months now. It's…bizarre," he muttered.

"I thought it was because you were still recovering from your injuries?" Minato ventured. He had heard that both Naruto and Neji had been injured in their last mission together several months prior. While Naruto had gone on to make a full recovery, Neji apparently was still having trouble regaining full motion to utilize his Gentle Fist Taijutsu. He still had weekly sessions of physical therapy with the pink-haired medic from Naruto's old genin team.

"I'm fine. Guy Sensei is being over-protective." Neji tried and failed miserably to hide his exasperated grimace.

The bartender strode over and set Minato's glass in front of him.

"Well," Minato smiled, trying to make light of the situation. "Cheers to taking breaks." He took a sip of his drink and watched Neji out of the corners of his eyes. To his mild alarm, he glimpsed Neji chug the entire contents of his beer glass before slamming it back on the table.

"Another." Neji ordered the bartender. "And preferably something stronger this time."

The bartender ambled over. "What will you have?"

"Neji-kun," Minato murmured.

Neji ignored him, but eyed the Cutty Sark with appraisal. He turned to the bartender. "Some scotch."

The bartender held up a bottle of Glenfiddich and glanced at Neji questioningly. Neji nodded his approval and added, "On the rocks." He dropped a couple of coins on the table.

As he watched the bartender pour the drink, Minato refrained from face palming with some difficulty. It appeared that if Neji wasn't preoccupied with missions, he completely fell apart. In no time, he would turn into a raging alcoholic. He made a hasty mental note to himself to waylay Guy and warn the man of his unruly student.

"Neji-kun," he ventured. "Are you of age yet?"

"Just turned a month ago," Neji replied, as the bartender placed the drink in front of him. "I'm one year older than Naruto."

The door to the bar suddenly opened again and a blast of cold wind and rain showered them both. Minato turned slightly and glimpsed Uchiha Itachi duck under the door curtain and approach the empty seat next to Neji. He bowed politely. "Neji-kun. Hokage-sama." The Uchiha sat himself down and nodded to the bartender. "The usual please," he murmured.

"You're late," Neji snapped.

Minato jerked in surprise at the harsh tone, but noted that Itachi looked distinctively unruffled at Neji's rude demeanor. The latter glanced contritely at the Hokage before he turned to Neji. "My apologies," he said quietly. "I was tending to Sasuke's injuries."

"So Sasuke's back from his mission too." Neji looked, if possible, even grumpier. The bartender came by with a small glass full of amber liquid, which Itachi nursed quietly in his hands. He did not make eye contact with Neji's pale glare, nor did he take a sip of the drink.

Minato, for his part, was completely thrown off by this unlikely pairing. He had no idea that that members of the Hyuuga and Uchiha clan were on friendly terms, let alone drinking buddies.

As if reading Minato's mind, Itachi glanced up. "I've been accompanying Neji-kun out recently, since he turned of age," he said by way of explanation.

"All the other jonin that are of-age are out on missions," Neji griped. "The only one free is Itachi." He raised his glass and knocked it against Itachi before throwing the contents back in one gulp. Itachi followed suit, the palest hint of a grimace lingering on his features as he swallowed.

Minato opened his mouth to issue an exasperated warning to the Uchiha, but Itachi caught him with a look and shook his head. "Let him," he mouthed. Minato suppressed a sigh and turned to his own drink.

Within the span of an hour, Neji ordered a third drink, followed by a fourth, and then more alarmingly, a fifth and a sixth. A dull glow creeped up his neck, and his pale eyes took on a glassy hue, which Minato watched with growing trepidation. He fervently thought of Hiashi, and how the boy's father must surely be rolling in his grave if he knew his son was self-destructing in the most undignified way possible for such a prodigious clan as the Hyuuga.

And if the Uchiha clan ever found out Itachi was aiding and abetting Neji's demise, they would have a field day. Minato's thoughts turned to Fugaku's competitive streak and internally groaned. He had already pitted Sasuke against Naruto as eternal rivals when the two had met on their first day at the academy.

As Neji polished off the sixth drink, and slumped against the table, Itachi finally turned towards Minato. Despite having matched Neji shot for shot, Minato was impressed to see that his gaze was rather steady.

"It's better this way," Itachi murmured. He glanced at Neji, who was now lying with his eyes closed and head against the tabletop. The Hyuuga's once-pale complexion was beet red. "He'll wake up with a hangover tomorrow, which will put him off from drinking for another week or two."

"But," Minato protested. "He's turning into an alcoholic."

Itachi sighed. "It's regrettable that he has to go to such lengths. But at least he will be able to function in a relatively normal manner around his clan for another week or so. Besides, Hokage-sama." Itachi threw him a cursory glance. "You have no idea how poor his temper is when he is inebriated."

He paused. Neji stirred quietly, but did not open his eyes.

After assuring himself that Neji would not be joining in the conversation anytime soon, Itachi continued softly. "The reason why we've been coming here is because of the damage he caused at the bar on Main Street."

Minato suddenly recalled the huge gaping hole in the wall of the bar Itachi had mentioned. He had assumed, of course, that some drunken shinobi brawl had been the cause of the property damage-and in all honesty-had assumed it had been Lee, Guy's younger doppelganger. He would have never guessed Neji.

"I suppose you know him better than I do," Minato relented.

Itachi's lips twitched into the smallest of smiles. "I know him well enough."

He glanced at Neji's prone figure. "And I also know that if we don't get him home within an hour, he's going to be dirtying the streets with his puke."

"Do you need help?" Minato reluctantly asked. He wasn't too keen at the idea of the Hyuuga barfing over his haori.

Itachi shook his head, amused. "I can handle him well enough on my own. Just help me get him outside."

The two shinobi stood, leaving money on the table for their drinks. They each slung one of Neji's arms across their shoulders and bodily dragged him towards the door. Outside, the rain had finally abated somewhat, and only a light drizzle remained. The alley was deserted.

Minato carefully handed Neji to Itachi, who slung him carefully over his shoulders. The Hyuuga did not stir.

"It was a pleasure, Hokage-sama." Itachi said formally, making to leave.

"Of course, Itachi-kun." Minato waved. Suddenly, a flash of inspiration caught him and he leaned towards Itachi. "Come by my office tomorrow morning. I am going to request detailed reports on Neji's physical therapy progress and I'll have my ANBU track his movements. With any luck, we can nip his alcoholism in the bud-"

A sudden gust of wind blew through the small alley. Minato shivered and turned up the collar of his haori. Simultaneously, Neji made a retching noise and projectile-vomited an acidic slush of alcohol onto the ground. A good portion of the vomit sprayed Itachi's jacket and pants.

At Minato's open-mouthed expression of surprised, Itachi sighed. "I guess I didn't know him well enough."


	2. Rainy Days

**Ask and you shall receive! Someone mentioned the idea of turning this into a drabble series, and while I was keen on the idea, to be honest, I wasn't too pleased with how the first fic turned out so I decided to branch out and try out writing about a different set of characters. But of course, it still has to include Itachi, who is my all-time favorite.**

 **For clarification, this is strictly AU—in fact, imagine it like Tsunade's Inifite Tsukuyomi filler series in the anime.**

 **Enjoy :)**

...

Uchiha Izumi enjoyed mornings such as this.

The sky was a murky grey blanket of foreboding clouds that hinted at a torrential downpour, and thunderclaps sounded in ominous peals across the horizon. The whole village waited with bated breath for the incoming storm. And Uchiha Itachi slept soundlessly on his side next to her, oblivious to the world.

His hair fell in careless streaks across his face, and his weary features were uncharacteristically relaxed, devoid of the usual tenseness that he wore to maintain the aloof facade.

It was his choice to shoulder the burdens of the world quietly upon his shoulders, and his choice as well to shut out the rest of the world from his inner turmoil and unspoken nightmares. He did not confide. Not to his team members, in the long-gone days when he was still a Konoha shinobi, definitely not to the elders of the village that had ordered him to exterminate his clan, and certainly not to Sasuke, whom he had risked everything for to ensure the younger Uchiha had a chance at redemption after abandoning his village in his desperate quest to gain power for revenge.

But he did let Izumi in on occasion.

And for that Izumi was grateful, because it hinted at the unspoken trust he had towards her, a trust that was as tenuous and fragile as the life they had reconstructed for themselves after the war had ended.

With a gentle hush, the sky let loose and the first droplets of rain came pelting down upon the village. The sound of rainfall filled the quiet apartment.

Izumi lay next to him on the warm expanse of their bed, having just woken up moments prior. She glanced at the clock on the wall. It read 8:10am.

She carefully raised a hand and caressed Itachi's face, which was turned towards her. Pushing his long bangs away from his handsome features, Izumi traced the faint lines on his face, etched there by the hard life he had led during his years of inner torment as a double agent—and then later on, his years of loneliness and exile as a missing-nin.

Itachi stirred softly but did not wake. His skin, already pale to begin with, was especially bloodless today, which worried Izumi greatly.

 _He needs another healing session with Tsunade,_ she thought to herself, and pursed her lips in apprehension. The famed medic had departed from the village several months prior to celebrate her official resignation as village leader and had embarked on a personal trip to the Land of Waves. She had yet to return. But in the time that she had left, Itachi's frail health had gradually worsened, and many nights she woke up to the sound of his hoarse coughs, as he doubled over on the bed, hand pressed to his mouth. The disease had taken its toll and left Itachi exhausted and drained. Ever the light sleeper, even today, he had failed to even stir at the sound of the thunder claps reverberating in the distance.

Izumi leaned in and planted a careful kiss on his hollowed cheeks, and Itachi let loose a soft sigh. He blinked his eyes open blearily and with some difficulty, focused them on Izumi.

"Good morning, Itachi-kun," she whispered softly. "It's past eight already." Before Tsunade had departed, she had left Itachi with a bottle of pills she had devised specifically to treat his auto-immune condition along with strict instructions to take them every twelve hours. Itachi had been less than a little careless with his health, and it had fallen on Izumi to maintain the strict regimen of a single pill at eight in the morning and a second at the same time in the evening. To humor her though, he complied with the instructions, good-naturedly accepting the bitter pills every time she insistently pressed them into his hands.

Itachi sighed softly again and turned to face the ceiling. Slowly and gingerly, he pushed himself up into a seated position and reclined against the headboard. He closed his eyes briefly and though he tried to hide it, a spasm of pain crossed his face.

Izumi rose from the bed and made for the kitchen of their tiny studio. She grabbed a tall glass and filled it with water from the pitcher, and quickly strode to the countertop, where the small white bottle of pills rested among the paperwork. She shook a small green pill from the bottle and returned to the bed with both items held out wordlessly for Itachi.

He took the pill in one hand and the glass in the other. "Thank you," he said, eyes crinkled in a slight smile.

His smile elicited one from Izumi in turn, and she leaned in and kissed his cheek again. "Of course." She sat on the edge of the bed and covered her bare legs with the blanket as she waited for Itachi to take his medication.

Once he had downed all the water in the glass, she took it and set it on the nightstand. They remained quiet for several moments. Izumi watched the storm blow itself into a fury outside their bedroom window, as leaves whirled through the rain, torn from tree branches by the strong gale. A flash of lightning lit up their view of the village, followed by a deafening clap of thunder. She had always been captivated by the ferocity of Konoha's summer storms, and her eyes followed the rain pelting down with quiet contentment. This was how she liked the village best, tree leaves coated with rain, their color turned a vibrant green as the storm washed away the dust and grime. The sweet scent of fresh rain permeated the air. It came as no surprise to anyone, least of all herself, that her primary chakra affinity was for water, rather than fire release, as is customary for most Uchihas.

A cool hand reached out and stroked her hair. Turning, she found Itachi gazing at her, a soft expression lingering on his features. With her attention now focused on him, his lips quirked. "Izumi-chan, what shall we have for breakfast?"

She smirked. "Well I'm not sure, seeing as you used up all the eggs the other day…"

Itachi had the grace to look abashed, and she couldn't stifle the series of giggles emanating from her.

One morning, she had woken up to plateful upon plateful of eggs made sunny-side up resting on the kitchen floor. Inspecting the scene more closely had revealed Itachi standing in the middle by the stove, wearing an intense expression of concentration with his Sharingan activated-for god's sake, who used their Sharingan to _cook_?-leaning anxiously towards the egg he had just cracked onto the pan. Thankfully, he had deemed the last set passable by his ridiculously high standards. The other neglected plates were not edible due to ludicrous reasons-a miniscule shell clinging to the egg white, he had gotten his sweat on the pan, the yolk had leaked, and a variety of other infinitesimal failures that the he couldn't abide by. In the process, all the eggs they had bought for the week had been used up in a single morning.

"Come," she bounced up and dragged him with her by his hand. _So cold._ She took both of her hands and clasped his tightly, trying to warm up his cool fingers. "What would you say to pancakes?"

They padded over to the kitchen. Itachi stole a glance at her from underneath his long lashes as he seated himself at the counter. "I am perfectly fine with that."

"Pancakes it is," Izumi declared. She proceeded to the pantry, where she rummaged through the contents and pulled out the necessary ingredients. In a matter of minutes, she mixed the ingredients into a thick batter and had the griddle warming. A slight sizzle emanated from the pan as she dropped the first dollop of batter.

Soon, several well-formed pancakes were slid onto a plate. Itachi had soundlessly retrieved the butter and maple syrup from the fridge and they both tucked into the meal, silverware clinking as they cut into the pancakes and ate silently.

"Is the Hokage expecting you at the office today," Izumi asked casually, one hand poised in the air with another piece of pancake dangling off her fork.

Itachi paused. He lowered his knife and fork and glanced up questioningly at Izumi. "I just needed to finish up my status report and drop it off. Was there something you needed?"

"Well…" Izumi toyed with her pajamas. She glanced up coyly at Itachi. "It's raining today and I would hate the thought of you catching a cold from walking in the storm." It was a trite reason, but she felt it necessary to throw it out there.

She gave him a meditative look. "What do you say to staying indoors today with me? We can watch a movie, or practice cooking more eggs…"

Itachi's lips twitched. "I think I will just leave the art of egg-cooking to you from now on," he remarked dryly.

"Regardless, I really want to spend today with you."

He cocked his head slightly, curious. It was unlike her to put in such a request. Ever since the war had ended several months prior, Itachi had quickly taken up the role of advising the Rokudaime Hokage, Hatake Kakashi. He spent most of his time inside the Hokage's office, pouring over documents, discussing village politics, and organizing meetings among the heads of the shinobi clans. And though he made no comment to his workload, Izumi saw the exhaustion slowly creeping over his features. Izumi, in turn, had taken up volunteering at the hospital under Sakura's tutelage. The two Uchiha both led busy schedules and had little time to spend at home with one another, and this was a fact that both had readily accepted, up until today. "Is something the wrong?" he asked, mild concern coloring his tone.

Izumi bit her lip. "No, nothing is wrong, per se. I just…" she hesitated, and then thought better of it. She had already come this far and there was no point in dropping the subject. "I just wanted to spend today with you because it's raining."

He raised his eyebrows. "Because of the rain?"

"You make me sound ridiculous," she replied disparagingly, rolling her eyes. "It's also my first day off since the war and it's about time for you to take a break anyhow from all the work Hokage-sama has been giving you." The hospital had seen no shortage of injured shinobi after the destructive battle with Madara and Obito, and they were finally starting to discharge the first of their patients.

"And rainy days are ideal for breaks then?" Itachi queried. She had no idea if he was joking with her.

"It's because I like rainy days and I wanted to enjoy them with you."

Itachi was quiet. She wondered if he was silently holding her in contempt for being selfish and asking him to relegate his entire day towards her, despite all the responsibility he carried as Kakashi's advisor.

But she knew Itachi was not petty and he did not hold grudges. Nonetheless, his devotion towards his village was unrivaled, and Izumi half-wondered if he would chastise her for the selfish suggestion as the war-torn village recuperated from its devastating losses. She look down at her hands, folded delicately in her lap and counted silently down before she opened her mouth to ask him to drop the subject.

"What would you have us do then?"

Izumi started at the quiet voice and glanced up. Itachi was surveying her, not unkindly. She smiled, elated.

"I still like the idea of watching a movie. But first." She glanced at the bed, with its blankets still unmade and the sheets carelessly thrown at across. She then turned her eyes back at him and raised her eyebrows suggestively. "I'll be gentle," she said, half-jokingly.

Itachi contemplated her without speaking for several beats. "Gentle," he finally repeated.

"I don't want to make your condition worse," she chided him. "We really should be careful-" she blinked, and found her head already resting on the pillows of the bed. Itachi had flash-stepped the both of them across the room in the span of a single second. His prowess, his stealth—although he no longer actively went on missions, it still took Izumi's breath away to know she had such a deadly shinobi as her partner.

"Was that," he asked, bending over her, tone teasing. "Gentle?"

She frowned up at him reproachfully. "Don't exhaust yourself before we even get started."

"Don't flatter yourself, Izumi-chan." One hand crept towards the buttons of her pajamas as the storm continued its course outside, the wind drowning out the sound of the soft kisses he planted along the soft nape of her neck.

...

 **I think we'll end it there to give them some privacy. ;) Well what do you guys think? Reviews, as always are appreciated and well loved.**


End file.
